Warrior's Tryst in Lorien
by talking cockerel
Summary: Legolas seeks Haldir out and challenges him to a fight; Haldir loses and faces a night of submission. Legolas/Haldir. Mild BDSM.


All hail Tolkien, owner and creator of Middle Earth!

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The sun had long passed beneath the mountains, and the shadows had grown short in the woods of Lothlorien, when Legolas came to his destination. Quickly and quietly he looked around, alert even in the land of the Galadhrim, for if Orcs had had the ability to cross the Nimrodel, as had happened not a week past, then even the Firstborn must look to safety within their own lands.

All was quiet to his senses – all was well. Legolas leapt up into a branch high above him, and moved through the tree's broad boughs lightly and effortlessly, until he came level with _flet. _It was furnished for a soldier's use, with light curtains and a rug for warmth, and only a few supplies. There was no lamp, for the stars were enough for Elves to see. It's sole occupant sat facing away from Legolas, fletching new arrows for his quiver.

"Marchwarden!" Legolas used the Westron tongue to alert Haldir to his presence. At that the Galadhrim turned to greet him in Elvish.

"Well met, Legolas Thanduilion. I have looked forward to your company while standing sentinel! My scouts alerted me of your coming, for you had asked them openly of my whereabouts." Here Haldir smiled and invited Legolas to sit with him, spreading the rug for them. "Many an Elf here has spoken with wonder about the presence of their stranger kinsman, a guest of our Lord and Lady's hospitality, a traveler from the fell depths of Moria, and a keeper of strangely small company!"

Legolas laughed to hear this description of the Dwarf and the Hobbits – one _did _thing they were strangely small, after all, to know that they never grew any taller, and that their infants had to be even smaller than human and elf infants.

"Indeed! Would that they knew their doughty Marchwarden audaciously ordered their Lord and Lady's guests blindfolded, like traitors and prisoners, and marched like fools beneath –"

"Peace! Come, Legolas, there was no insult intended, surely you must see that! Only a love for our land which has been threatened too often. If any honor was insulted, I am sorry for that, for it was not meant to be so. I have now heard the tale of the Companions from Imladris to Lorien, with which I was not acquainted before. Hardy and courageous are you and your friends, aye, even the Dwarf, to have undertaken such a quest as this!"

"Hardy and courageous, yes, and in this instance, vengeful and merciless to those who have wronged us!" Legolas' tone had been light and jesting before, but now it was steely and brazen. Haldir looked up, startled at this swift reverse of direction, but Legolas continued.

"Your words are fair and true now, Haldir, but our meeting then was not! I was dishonored by a kinsman before my friends! More, arrows were drawn on Gimli son of Gloin, who is a good friend of mine, and that I will not forget! Why do you think I sought you out this night, Haldir?"

The light in Legolas's eyes was bright and fierce, his features sharp and cold. Haldir sprang to his feet, dismay in his eyes, alarmed by the sudden change in the Northener's manner. Quickly the Galadhrim sized him up – Legolas was the taller; Haldir was the broader, but neither difference would give either any substantial advantage.

"Master this anger, Legolas! You are not yourself! I have done nothing wrong – I did as duty would have of me! Forget not that Aragorn for all, including you, to be bound! The dwarf would accede only on that condition – your accusation is an unfair one!"

They began to circle one another in the flet, although they knew that should it come to blows, this little landing would not be large enough. Here Haldir kept to himself that he knew their heights better than Legolas would, for he had kept guard many a night in this glade.

"Aragorn did what he thought was best – as you should have done," growled Legolas. Haldir saw with growing apprehension that he could not reasoned with, and tried for appeasement instead.

"What would you have of me now, Legolas? I cannot take back my actions past, but what can I do in conciliation? Ask of me anything, but that my men and I may continue to serve my Lord and Lady undisturbed, and I will give it as best as I can."

Legolas smiled then in reply; his look was dangerous, and Haldir, fearing the worst of cunning and malice, shrank internally from one whom he had thought to trust.

"Good, Marchwarden! I would expect this from one with your strength. Nay, Haldir, flinch not; honorable and dutiful servant that you are, I will not take you from your responsibility. Fear not! I ask of you what will take no more than this night."

"And what is that?"

"Confrontation and submission."

Haldir drew back, wary. "That is…that is not what I expected. You speak of the combatant's tryst – but –"

Legolas cut him off with an impetuousness he seldom displayed amongst the mortal folk.

"Hold you fast to your word, Marchwarden? If so then send word for your soldiers to turn a deaf ear and blind eye on the disturbances here – and to guard more alertly to make up for your lack. Make haste, Marchwarden, lest I tell them myself!"

Haldir communicated thus with his men, and he and Legolas moved to a clearing not far from the tree in which their flet was.

Their weapons were put carefully to one side, and their tunics and belts were laid down with them. Legolas's hair was wild from his travels, and he left it free but for the thick braid down the back of his head. Haldir pulled his hair up with a piece of leather, revealing his chiseled jaw more fully. Warriors faced each other down, unarmed but for their skill.

"The rules are simple – the one that falls first to his back shall submit to the other while the moon is visible. Shall it be so?"

"It shall be so," Haldir replied, grimly, and at that Legolas threw back his head and grinned, fey and untamed.

The night came alive with the sighs of the great golden trees as the warriors circled and postured beneath them. Their bodies looked almost a pair, a golden panther and a tawny lynx. Legolas had in his recent decades acted as companion, messenger and traveler, and was a veteran of open confrontations. His limbs were as a young tree's, supple and powerful. Haldir, deadly amongst the formidable, stalked his opponent as a hunter stalked his prey, favoring shadows and surprise.

Legolas made the first move. He leapt at such speed that Haldir was almost knocked over; had he not twisted then to avoid landing on his back, the fight would have been over with humiliating brevity. But twist Haldir did, like a cat coming to its forepaws, and his fists lashed out towards Legolas. The blows glanced off the Northerner's chest, losing most of their impact.

Legolas's leg struck out, missed as Haldir spun away from him – Legolas pressed his advantage, flashing left, right, left_,_forward, _left, _and forward again. The blows came at breakneck pace, and it was all Haldir could do to parry and dodge.

"Hah!" Tired of backing up, Haldir planted himself and lashed out like a Morningstar. His hair whipped around with the force of his blow and his foot connected solidly with Legolas's stomach – Legolas stumbled, and Haldir jumped forward, emboldened. But then Legolas caught his leg and pulled him off balance. The two fell to the ground, grappling on their sides, each writhing in the dirt.

Haldir forced Legolas onto his chest and pinned him down by his neck. "Yield!" he commanded, a hint of a pant in his voice.

"We agreed on the back, remember!" Legolas countered, and he tore one arm and one leg free, and thrashed so violently that Haldir lost his grip on his neck.

"Elbereth!" Haldir exclaimed, as Legolas's head came up and smacked him hard in the chin. They made it back onto their feet, but to Haldir it seemed that Legolas's strength waned not, but rather increased as their combat lengthened, so that at last even the worthy Marchwarden's endurance, although by no means lacking, was overcome.

A kick, and Haldir's legs flew out from beneath him and he thudded heavily onto his back. Legolas's legs were splayed for balance as he held the Galadhrim down by his shoulders.

"Yield," he snarled, feral and angry.

Haldir heaved once for breath, and was pinned so tightly his chest strained against Legolas's arms. Silhouetted against the moon like that, the face of Legolas was fair beyond the measure even of the Elves, and his powerful body was lithe and forceful against his.

"I yield," said Haldir. The defeat quietened Haldir, for he had not been bested since his ages-past appointment as captain of the guard. Further, he was unfamiliar with the tempers and expectations of the Northern Elves. If tempestuous Legolas was fired with battle lust, there was no telling what the coming trial would present. But worrying would avail him little. It was better to compose himself first.

The comfortably exerted bodies separated with the fluidity of warriors. Haldir sat up; Legolas stood with his back to Haldir, long hands clasped behind a straight back, a head tilted up to the soft dark vault of night. Finally he spoke.

"Look sharp, Haldir! The night has a ways to go yet. So begins the second part of our tryst."

The trees of Lothlorien were so tall and ancient that many a mighty bow was more than twice the height of a normal man, and twice a man's shoulder-breadth at its thickest. It took Legolas some time to find a branch which he deemed suitable for his purposes.

To this branch he ordered Haldir.

The height was just beyond Haldir's reach. To hold on to it he had to bounce off his feet; to hold him there Legolas bound him so Haldir could only just feel the ground with his toes. Against the strength of Legolas' belt, his wrists would fare the worse. The trunk of the tree right before him, and its smooth bark was mere inches away.

Unceremoniously, Legolas placed his hand on Haldir's shoulder and pushed. Haldir's body swayed forward and his bare skin met the tree's cool hide, but Legolas's callousness was insulting, and a heated flush crept up his middle. Already the belt chaffed at his wrists, and his unnaturally stretched arms were straining to hold his weight.

But submission was his lot till dawn, as he had agreed. It would not be said that for some physical discomfort, Haldir of Lorien had gone back on his word!

Haldir waited a long time in silence, for Legolas studied his hostage a long time in silence. Only the sweat running down Haldir's corded arms and back in rivulets indicated the passing of time. Despite the stillness of his surroundings, or perhaps because of it, Haldir was very aware of Legolas's presence, and of the deliberation behind his every action. He thought back to his first instance of seeing this stranger within their lands – he had been singing the song of Nimrodel. How different he had been then – melancholic, and subtle in his grief for the fall of Mithrandir. How different he was now, how fey his features in combat – how unbridled – how fell!

The other's soft laughter and gently mocking words interrupted Haldir's thoughts.

"Admirable indeed are the Galadhrim, if they are built even half to the like of Haldir!" Legolas' next words were louder. "Listen up! It need hardly be told that a flogging will commence. Count out twenty strokes, and I will cease. Lose the number, or neglect to say it, and I will begin from zero."

"That is insufferable!" snapped Haldir. Already short-tempered from his drawn out position, he continued, in spite of his earlier resolutions, to protest. "Any beating I will take. But I will not count out my strokes like a disgraced Elfling!"

"Then pit your resolve against my arm," Legolas replied. There was the soft hiss of fabric moving, and then the sharp _crack _of leather. Haldir twisted his head around, and saw that Legolas was using his second belt as a whip. It was broader and longer than a normal belt, being used to bear his quiver – similar to the sort Haldir himself used.

Haldir faced the tree purposefully again, and the belt began to fall.

Legolas dealt his broad, muscular back a succession of swift, ruthless strokes. Then he stepped back, leaving Haldir gasping as the intensity of pain reached its peak. Twelve red streaks crossed Haldir's back horizontally. It would take many more, Legolas knew, to wear down Haldir's tenacity.

The cracks rang loud and sharp through the silence of the forest, and if any wondered at the sound, none intruded on them. Legolas paused once or twice, listening for any disturbance – but Haldir's orders kept their privacy intact.

On several occasions Legolas caught the beginnings of a groan, caught and stifled almost immediately; also Haldir's feet started to scrape at the tree's roots in a futile effort to relief his arms of his weight, although their movements would be stilled when Haldir became conscious of it.

"Hhhh-hhh," Haldir panted suddenly, and Legolas smiled a small smile. Haldir's breathing had been growing more labored for awhile. With each blow of the whip Haldir's body would sway towards the tree and back, stretching his arms even more. At certain angles Legolas would catch the side expression of his face. First a countenance of impervious marble, it was now covered with a light sheen of sweat. The expression in his eyes was defiant, and challengingly so.

The night wore on, and just when Legolas was marveling that perhaps his arm would flag before the Marchwarden's resolve, Haldir twisted and groaned.

Legolas stopped. There were no longer discernibly individual streaks of red on his body. Haldir's back was splash of vibrant red, and had his pants been pulled down, his buttocks and thighs would be the same shade, for Legolas had not spared an inch of flesh from his shoulders to the back of his knees. His face was fully flushed, and his hair clung to his temples and neck. With every swing of his body Haldir winced perceptibly; by now his wrists were raw. And yet, a fierce, stubborn determination remained in his eyes.

Thus encouraged, Legolas redoubled the strength of his blows. With each lash of the whip Haldir writhed more and groaned louder, until he suddenly cried,

"One!" Legolas blinked in surprise. He had forgotten about this!

"Two!"

"Thr – Hahh! Three!"

Haldir counted each stroke through furiously clenched teeth. Legolas celebrated this small victory.

"Eight!"

"Your strength is estimable, but rather tedious. I will liven things up!" Haldir heard the sound of a blade being unsheathed, and a sudden dread jumped into his mind. Unbecoming though it was for a captain to be seized with alarm, Haldir had thus far underestimated Legolas' aggression, it was with great mental strain that Haldir took hold of his panic.

The next strike came not from leather, but from steel. The flat of Legolas's long knife bit into the back of his legs with a fury far worse than the quiver-belt. Haldir's eyes widened, his lashes fluttering, as he strove to master this new agony.

Which Legolas knew how to heighten. When Haldir had cried out, "Eleven!" Legolas stepped up and placed his hands on Haldir's upper arms. Their muscles were stiff with strain. His fingers moved gently, purposefully. They eased over his upper arms and shoulders, then down to his back, then back again, over and over. They moved easily over Haldir's sweat dampened back, loosening his muscles, taking away some of his pain.

Then –

"Twelve," Haldir rasped, his voice increasingly hoarse. Thirteen, fourteen – between the strokes Legolas repeated his ministrations, always taking long enough that the pain would recede – and then he would slash back with his knife, and the shock and contrast would multiply the pain all out of proportion for Haldir –

Fifteen landed on his stomach, and Haldir cried out wildly, forgetting to count.

The Galadhrim's control was all but spent, the agony so acute he was a mere whisker from begging reprieve. His entire body quivered with anticipation and dread; his lips were parted, streaks of sweat framed his brow and chin, and the points of color in his cheeks were high and concentrated.

Legolas pulled the leather band out of Haldir's hair and held it to Haldir's face.

"Open," he ordered, his icy composure a foil to Haldir's torment. Haldir panted, bit back a sharp hiss, and for a one moment there was rebellion – his eyes flashed in outrage. But this recalcitrance soon expired. Slowly, against great unwillingness, the inevitable pall of mortification came over his features. He blinked away from Legolas, staring so hard at the tree he squinted. His lower jaw opened with a visible quiver.

Then the leather piece was in, a thick, intrusive, slimy thing shoved to the back of his throat, and as he groaned again, the sound came out muffled and animalistic.

Haldir's now loosened hair fell to the middle of his back. Even its touch made Haldir's raw skin burn, although his wince was cut short by the gag.

Legolas lifted its pale golden mass, pulled it taut, and ran his tongue along the base of his neck. A long hand rubbed down the middle of his stomach, nails digging and tickling, till they were just above the rising tent in his breeches. An incoherent cry spilled from Haldir's lips, and then another. Even through the gag the sounds were wanton to Haldir's own ears, and what little mind he had left was grateful that they were dampened rather than thrown to the hearing of his sharp-eared lieutenants. Legolas's hands slid over his chest and stomach repeatedly, pinching and dancing expertly, but teasing his manhood by staying clear of it; they massaged his shoulders and neck knowingly and raked up and down his sore legs. Agony was so well blended with arousal that Haldir could not reason, could not restrain, and the last strokes passed in such a state of delirium that had the gag been removed he would have heard himself pleading, whimpering, screaming –

"Twenty," said a cool voice behind him, and against the protest of his burning body and aching arms, and his helpless bondage heightening this disgraceful surrender, and – _Legolas_ – a tumult of rage, and self-contempt, and resentment, and hideous pleasure – and despite it all Haldir's body tightened unbearably, recklessly and treacherously, and passion unstoppable stormed through his loins, till in that crest of release the proud Galadhrim knew nothing of awareness safe the hot, sticky heat spilling, seemingly endlessly, over himself.

Blood ceased its howling in Haldir's ears, and he could hear, once more in the peace unpunctuated by the echo of leather of steel against flesh, the sighs of the wind and the trees. His feet began to stretch for purchase again, and not a moment too soon, for Legolas reached up and unfastened his belt, and Haldir fell to the ground, forehead pressed against the smooth tree trunk, groaning softly as feeling came back into his arms. It was a good feeling, despite the relentless burn in his back and legs. It was more bearable with freedom of movement, and the knowledge that the beating was done. He spat out his gag and looked over for Legolas, to see the Elf sitting, back against the tree, legs bent at the knee and arms resting wide. It was a contemplative position, and the upward tilt of his head was no longer an act calculated to present nonchalant arrogance, but an unconscious expression of pensiveness. He saw that what stormy humor Legolas had had was now blown over, and that all hostility had left his being.

"Legolas," said Haldir, when he had regained breath. His tongue and felt strangely free without the leather piece. In Haldir, too, was resentment or anger absent. "Your passion is yet unquenched." It was an observation, not a statement of consequence; and yet, with his own fluids a wet and cool reminder, he said, "let me."

Legolas murmured, "no."

Haldir hesitated, then, though movement made him wince, continued to reach for Legolas. The Northener seemed not to notice his actions until Haldir's fingers brushed Legolas's thigh.

"Haldir," Legolas said decisively, but gently. "Thank you, but no. I have kept my own passion countless times before and will do so once more. Too much have I imposed on you this night. No more will I do so."

Haldir withdrew his hand; because of his back, he remained on his knees in silence. Again he looked at Legolas, musing over yet another transformation in him. He had arrived in good humor, which had been overtaken by a frenzy of combat, which had in turn given way to frighteningly impassive control, and at present he was in a state of benign introspection.

"Haldir of Lorien," began Legolas with a meditative air, "you were not deserving of my wrath. In truth, despite my words, no honor was slighted, for we all know well your burden to bear. More so, for those that have walked far, are all the more weighted with their thoughts of home. Will you forgive my callowness and unreason?"

"With all my heart", replied Haldir. "I have known warriors to have strange and uncommonly brutal passions, brought on by battle lust or grief; you have been over Mountain and beneath Cave, and have had to restrain yourself amongst the children, and you have suffered the loss of one of your Company. Small wonder that your moods are fey! The warrior's tryst is after all not a gentle thing.

"But, Legolas," he continued, "you would not have been imposing, for me to –" he paused to think of his words. He leaned forward in earnest, waiting till Legolas turned to him before speaking.

"You would not have been imposing, had I had served your arousal earlier."

Legolas raised a slender brow, but did not speak as Haldir added sincerely,

"Not, of course, that you would have difficulty finding such comfort from others amongst the Galadhrim, handsome as you are!"

Legolas smiled and replied, "Aye, and just as surely the great Marchwarden of Lorien could easily find one worthy of his effort!"

At this both Elves laughed lightly, indulging in some harmless vanity. They made their way back to the flet, where Haldir, with much care for his abused skin, exchanged his soiled leggings for a clean pair. They spoke for a time of their homes and recounted stories from their travels.

Presently, cooled from his exertions, Legolas dressed back in his clothes. Though Haldir wanted to follow suit, he grimaced even to sit, and so he sank back to his knees with a thought as to how long more he should rest. Not much longer, he decided, rotating his stiff and sore wrists. They were coated with an oily, strong smelling substance meant to help healing. Haldir had declined its use on his back, saying that it was a precious mixture,

"Unnecessary," Haldir pronounced, with a touch of loftiness, "for mere beatings." Legolas smiled then, perhaps deliberately, narrowing his eyes to a lazy, half lidded gaze that stroked languorously over Haldir's body. They lingered long on Haldir's wrists and the faint but telling blush which had reappeared. Haldir returned his stare with an implacable, steady calm, although his body was not completely unaffected. The air thickened once again, but Legolas broke it.

"Enough!" he said, his eyes turned merry once more. "No more shall I impose, I said!"

"And you would not be imposing, I said," Haldir countered insistently.

"As for that, it is too quick a thought," Legolas said. "I will go, and not without regret to leave your company. I will see you alone again before we depart, if you are agreeable, though not within the week – I would not deprive the Galadhrim of their captain again so soon!"

"I would like that," replied Haldir. "Though I will not be here after a week – we move often to keep ourselves familiar with our forest."

"Then I will seek you out again. And then, we shall see," said Legolas, and with that parting comment he waved to Haldir and leapt lightly from the flet.

END

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Tell me how you liked it - how the language was for you, the characters, the ... everything. Thank you for reading!

Yours, Cockerel.


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